Guardian Angel
by afaithfulwriter890
Summary: Castiel had always been told that he was a very important angel. He never knew why until Michael introduces him to a young Dean Winchester. Dean and Sam's childhood, and Seasons 1, 2, and 3 through Castiel's perspective.


_Guardian Angel - Chapter One . . . ?_

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><p><strong>Hey guys. This started out as a one-shot centered around Castiel, but I realized that I could turn this into a longer fanfic.<strong>

**So, after you read this, please leave a review telling me if you would like me to continue. If I DO continue it, it will be Castiel watching over Dean as he goes through his childhood, and his teenage years. It will show the influence that Castiel had over things, and will also show how Castiel fell in love with Dean (because c'mon let's face it, it's obvious that Cas loves Dean - romantically or platonically, it doesn't really matter).**

**So if you would like to see that, please leave a review and let me know, or, if you would prefer, PM me.**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy!**

**I don't own Supernatural.**

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><p><strong>Chapter One (?)<strong>

Gabriel always said that Castiel would have an important job, and the dark-winged little angel never questioned his brother's words. However, after Gabriel left Heaven and the centuries wore on, Castiel began to doubt that his moment would ever come. Then Michael came to him one day – _the_ Michael. Castiel could hardly believe his eyes when the most powerful archangel and leader of the Heavenly Host came to him. He had been with a few other members of his garrison – Anael, Uriel, and Balthazar – when Michael came.

The four angels heard their leader approaching, and readied themselves with haste. The stood at attention, like regular soldiers with Anael standing slightly in front of the group, signifying that she was their superior.

Michael landed before them, his massive white wings extended to their full length. All angels had wings, but the archangels had the most beautiful wings of all. Michael's were a blinding white, as well as the largest and the strongest. Lucifer's had been a warm, russet color, and, while not as large as Michael's were just as strong. After the fall, however, Lucifer's wings turned jet-black and became torn and broken. Raphael's were black – like Castiel's – and not a large or as powerful as his brother's. He had the smallest wings of all the archangels, but they were still incredibly large compared to normal angels. Gabriel's wings had been a rich, golden-caramel color. His wings were just as large as Michael's and were just as powerful. Gabriel was not a warrior, but he was God's messenger, meaning that he, when he was still in Heaven, did the most traveling. He spread God's Word among the humans and brought them important messages. Because of this, God made sure that his wings were extra strong so that they could support him on his long excursions.

"Michael," Anael greeted the archangel, bowing her head respectfully. "For what reason do you honor us with your presence?"  
>Michael didn't even look at the red-haired angel. Instead, his eyes were fixated on Castiel. He nodded to the lesser angel. "Castiel," he greeted firmly. If Castiel didn't know better, he would have said that he heard respect and admiration in Michael's voice. "Your time has come, brother. Your job is at hand."<p>

Castiel stepped forward and dipped his head. "I am ready to fulfil my duty," he stated, not meeting the archangel's eye. He kept himself calm, and was sure not to let the overwhelming excitement he felt show. "I am yours to command, brother."

"I am glad, Castiel," Michael said with a small, barely noticeable grin. "For you have a very, _very_ important task ahead of you. The fate of Heaven and all its angels depend on you."

The younger angel's eyes widened for a moment. Gabriel had told him that he was a very important person, but Castiel had no idea that it was this important – this crucial. "I . . ." Castiel paused and cleared his throat. He had to keep his composure. He had to impress Michael. "I will do everything in my power to complete this task. I will not fail Heaven."

"No," Michael agreed. "You won't." Before Castiel could respond, Michael snapped his fingers, and Heaven disappeared.

Castiel looked around, confused and bewildered by his new surroundings. Michael stood beside him, and they appeared to be in some kind of . . . house. "We . . . we are on Earth," Castiel murmured aloud.

Michael nodded. "Affirmative. This house belongs to the Winchesters – they are a very special family, Castiel. Come, I will show you your purpose."

The two angels walked down a narrow hallway. Castiel studied the house, trying to commit it to memory. There were four doors in this hallway. One lay directly behind them, and led to an empty bedroom. The other three were laid out rather spaciously before them, and were all on the left hand side. The first door was open. Castiel glanced in briefly as they passed. Moonlight shone through the window, illuminating a small, empty bathroom. Castiel walked on to the second door. This one was closed; he listened closely for any kind of noise that might indicate that something was inside. When Castiel heard nothing but the vent from inside the room, he moved on to the third door. Michael already stood before it, looking inside.

As Castiel approached, he heard a voice. "Goodnight, Dean," a woman's voice sounded.

When Castiel reached the doorway, he saw a beautiful blond woman standing beside a child's bed. Her belly was large with child, and she was dressed in a white, silk nightgown. The angel did not pay much attention to the woman, instead, he found himself captivated by the little boy sitting up in the bed.

"I'm not tired," the boy – Dean, the woman had called him – said. "I don't want to sleep." He had his little arms folded across his chest, and his lower lip was sticking outward in a pout. His hair was short, spiky, and blond, and he wore red plaid pajamas.

The woman sighed, but it was affectionate. She sat on the edge of the bed and ran one of her hands through his golden locks. "Dean, you have to get some sleep, or else you'll be too tired to play tomorrow."

Dean continued to pout. "But I don't wanna play tomorrow, I wanna play now."

"Why don't you just try to sleep? I bet that once you close your eyes, you'll be tired," the woman said with a small smile. She continued to stroke her son's head lovingly.

Dean shook his head stubbornly. "Nuh-uh."

The woman thought for a moment. "Okay . . . how about I sing for you?"

Dean's face immediately brightened. "Yes, please!" he squealed happily.

The woman smiled widely. "Okay. What do you want to hear, sweetie?"

"Can you sing 'Hey Jude'?" Dean asked politely.

The woman smiled and obliged.

Castiel found himself smiling as the little boy listened to his mother sing. Dean's eyelids began to droop, and then he seemed to lose all will. He drifted off to sleep peacefully before the song was over. The woman smiled at him and let out a small laugh. "Oh, Dean," she murmured. She leaned forward and kissed her son's head. "Sleep tight, my love. The angels are watching over you."

The woman stood then, and left the room. She walked right past Castiel and Michael, unable to see them there. When she was gone, Michael stepped into the room and stared at the sleeping boy. "Castiel, meet Dean Winchester. This is the reason you were created. Your job is to keep him safe, Castiel. Make sure he follows the path that his laid down for him, and when he falls to where his brother cannot reach him, you must be the one to raise him from perdition and guide him to righteousness. This little boy will grow into a hero – someone who saves many human lives, and destroys many demons and monsters, and, more importantly, he will be my vessel."

Castiel's eyes widened. "Your vessel? Then that means . . ."

"Yes, brother. Angels will walk the earth once more. Lucifer will rise, and I will have to strike him down and end this once and for all," Michael replied grimly.

As the younger angel began to wrap his head around what he had been told, he began to see the significance of this boy. _Nothing will touch him,_ he silently vowed, for Castiel already felt a strong pull toward the boy. His instincts were telling him to protect for he had been _made_ to watch over Dean Winchester.

"I will protect Dean Winchester from all harm. I will watch over him, and guide him so that what needs to be done is done," Castiel said quietly.

Michael nodded. "Good. This is what our Father created you for, Castiel. This is your purpose." With that, Michael disappeared – returned to Heaven to continue to give orders to the angels.

Castiel remained. He approached the bed where the little boy lay, and felt a smile form upon his lips. He _was_ kind of adorable. "I will protect you," he murmured again, for the umpteenth time. The idea seemed to be programmed into his hard drive. "No harm will ever come to you, Dean Winchester. You will never be alone; I will always be there to watch over you."


End file.
